


ants at the side of a freeway

by liveyourtemptation



Series: cisco ramon's interdimensional community network [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: AU, Gen, Magic, some horror elements, the tanis au no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-05 01:14:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10294073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liveyourtemptation/pseuds/liveyourtemptation
Summary: Harrison frowns and the deep lines on his face indicate that this is his usual expression. “How do I know your thing is not ripping me off?”“I guess you don't,” Penta says with a bright smile.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know guys. I'm writing gen fic i'm in too deep. there is no romance this time, sorry. if you want to be creeped out by forests listen to the tanis podcast.

The train rolls through flat snow covered acres. Penta sinks deeper into his seat. It will be a while before they reach the city that has become his home: Central City of the States, short Central. His visit to the School had been long overdue but there was a reason for that. He is happy that he is returning to his little house in the city now.

 

He thinks about his parents, or rather, the people that had given him up, given him over into the care of the School. He had been too young to remember their faces. He visited them once, after he graduated but they had seemed scared of what has become of him. He isn't mad at them. Maybe he would have even chosen this if he could have made the choice. He likes his life, he likes who he has become and he likes what he can do.

 

Seeing his old mentor again had shaken some memories loose that are now cluttering his mind and he goes through them, stuffing them away again where they belong. He remembers his mentor telling them:

 

_No names. That's the first rule. You never use you're real name. It holds unimaginable power over you. So, it's Penta now. He won't explain why. (He likes how it sounds, how it feels in his mouth. The Greek root and the feminine a at the end. It has come to him in a dream. He has learned to listen to his dreams.) And it comes easy to him. All the others are jealous, finally. They all see him now. They see him shine. This is what he is supposed to do. Under his fingers things grow, come to live. The wind whispers secrets to him. Water runs over his hands like a caress. The earth holds or gives in, whatever he asks of it. And he sees through it all. He sees this world and all the other worlds. He understands. Sometimes he thinks he understands even more than his other selfs because he has been trained to open his mind. He has been trained to listen, to let the endless stream run through him, he channels energy like he has been born to do it. And it's so easy to pick things up and connect them. Or to tear them apart. No one is as good as he is. At least not on this earth._

 

He keeps those memories firmly tucked away at the edge of his mind. Usually.

 

He scrolls through the messages in his inbox. Five new messages from the man who introduced himself as Harrison. Penta considers them for a moment before ignoring them like he had done with the rest for a few weeks now. He already did a background check on Harrison Wells. There was a lot to find. But what Harrison is asking of him, it is- He needs to do some more digging before he can accept his pleas. At least he is not offering a payment of any kind. That shows he is not a complete idiot. For this you do not pay the guide. _It_ will take what it is owed from you directly and it will take plenty.

 

Still, Penta needs to know why Harrison wants to see the Clearing. If he should guide him then that is essential. And he does not expect Harrison to outright tell him, those reasons are always deeply personal, sometimes even unknown to the person themselves. So Penta will do some digging.

 

He closes his eyes and lets his mind wander. He looks all over, it's quite loud and empty out there today. He finally finds the one he is looking for in one of their rooms. It's the library. Penta had build it with a few others. Cisco, who was still failing at constructing simple things like an apple in their shared mind space, loves this room the most. He is curled up in an armchair, one leg dangling over the armrest. He is in his usual attire of all black functional clothing, dirt stains all over him. And his hair-

 

“What have you done to your hair?” Penta exclaims.

 

Cisco looks up from his book somewhere between a smirk and a frown. “What's with that unspoken rule that we all have to keep long hair. Do you know how unpractical that is when you have to fight?”

 

If Penta would not know that they share the same voice he would say it sounds rougher, deeper than his own. But right now his focus lies on Cisco's dark hair that has been shaven off, not completely, but obviously by someone who didn't know what they were doing. He sits down on the windowsill and looks outside on a beautiful Victorian garden that does not exist.

 

“You look like I killed your dog,” Cisco says.

 

“It's alright,” Penta says, lies, and it's not even that Cisco is not allowed to cut his hair, it's just that everything about this Cisco was already so practical, his long hair the last unpractical, stupid, sweet thing about him. “Why are you hiding here, anyway? I've looked everywhere for you.”

 

“I'm not hiding,” Cisco says. “Outside is hell. Haven't you noticed, Reverb and Bat are back together, raiding another earth. Fucking annoying. I really don't care what they are doing, but do they have to blast it through the whole multiverse.”

 

“They should be more careful,” Penta says but his heart is not really in it. If they get punished it's their fault.

 

“What about you? What do you want to talk about?” Cisco asks.

 

“Harrison Wells found his way to me,” Penta says and returns his focus back on Cisco's face to see his smile disappear.

 

“So you've got one, too.” Cisco says, sounding more distant than before.

 

“Yeah. I've been wondering if it would happen.”

 

“What does he want from you?” Cisco asks, sitting up straight in the armchair.

 

“He wants me to guide him. To the Clearing.”

 

“That's a big deal, isn't it?”

 

“Yes,” Penta says and laughs. “It is a big deal.”

 

“You know what I think about him,” Cisco says. “Harrison Wells will take more from you than he will ever be able to give.”

 

“But-”

 

“Yes, but he might give to another person instead, blah, blah, blah.” Cisco rolls his eyes. “Sorry, but sometimes I think it's just time before some abuses your tolerant attitude. And Harrison Wells seems like a good fit.”

 

Penta looks back out to the garden to escape Cisco's hard gaze. Sadly he knows exactly from what place Cisco's words come from, what pain motivate them. But he does not share that experience or that pain.

 

“You're gonna do it anyway, aren't you?” Cisco asks and puffs out a breath of air. “What's the use of this whole thing if we don't learn from each others mistakes.”

 

“Is Tess still around?” Penta asks. He knows he is deflecting.

 

“Yeah, she's been making me do crazy shit.” There is fondness flooding Cisco's voice.

 

Penta gets up and puts a hand on Cisco's shoulder. “I have to get off my train,” He says with a smile. “You be good.”

 

“You know me,” Cisco says with a smirk.

 

A week later Penta calls Harrison.

 

“We have to meet,” Penta says without letting Harrison speak.

 

“O-okay,” Harrison says. “Great. I'll just have to pick up Jesse from school. How about tonight?”

 

“Jesse?” Penta asks.

 

“My daughter,” Harrison says.

 

“I'm aware,” Penta replies. He has an idea. “Good. I'll come by your place.”

 

“Wait, what?” Harrison says. “Okay. It's-”

 

“I know where you live,” Penta says and hangs up.

 

The house looks nice. Suburban even. Nothing like Penta would have expected from a man like Harrison. But then again the man who had bought this house probably was a different person than the Harrison Penta had gotten to know. He makes his way past bushes and the lawn, all still covered in snow. It looks like someone had started to hang some Christmas lights over the porch but had given up halfway. Now one part of the lights with its colorful bulbs is firmly attached and the other half hangs down on the faraway end of the porch.

 

Penta rings the bell. It takes a while until Harrison opens the door. He leans in the doorway looking tired and exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, his glasses pushed up on his head. In the background a child is yelling.

 

“How the fuck do you know where I live?” Harrison asks.

 

“I have my resources,” Penta says.

 

Harrison sighs and gestures for him to come in. “I guess, I shouldn't have expected anything less,” He says while he closes the front door again.

 

Penta takes in the environment. A house or apartment is like a miniature model of the mind of the people living in it. You can find out a lot about someone by looking at their place. So Penta slowly makes his way past shoes, carelessly strewn over the floor, a backpack leaning against a wall, family pictures on them. He doesn't look at them too closely. Later.

 

There are rooms to his left and right and he decides to investigate the noise coming from the left. Harrison follows him wordlessly. He finds his way into a kitchen where a little girl is sitting at the table.

 

“Dad, can we have pizza tonight?” She asks with a whining voice before turning around and realizing that there is someone else with her father.

 

“Jesse, I told you someone was coming by. This is-”

 

“I'm Penta,” He says and squats down next to Jesse and extends his hand. She looks him up and down before she takes his hand. “I'm Jesse,” She says and looks him directly in the eyes. “My dad says only lazy people wear sweatpants outside.”

 

There is a smile creeping on his face that he can't quite fight down. Jesse has dark hair, pulled up in two short pigtails that stand up from her head. She is still young but her gaze is steady.

 

“You know, only people who hate being comfortable say that kind of things,” Penta replies. Jesse considers his words then grins and pulls back her hand. “How old are?” He asks her.

 

“I'm six years old,” Jesse says. “I'm in the first grade. Look,” She points at a sheet next to her, apparently homework of some kind. “I can read this already. Most kids in my class can't do that.”

 

Penta looks over the paper. “Impressive.”

 

He gets up to wander further into the house and Harrison follows him. Penta turns around holding up a hand. “Have dinner with your daughter. Let me do my thing.”

 

Harrison frowns and the deep lines on his face indicate that this is his usual expression. “How do I know your thing is not ripping me off?”

 

“I guess you don't,” Penta says with a bright smile. Harrison sighs again and gestures for him to go ahead.

 

Penta makes his rounds, slowly working through the rooms until he gets upstairs. He only peeks into Jesse's room but decides to go further. In the door to the bedroom he stops. The whole house is drenched in it but here it is the worst: grief. Penta can almost smell it dripping from the walls. It's not exactly an unpleasant smell, it is rather intoxicating, like a deep hum that pulls you down, down. Penta shakes his head and goes into the room. It has, like the whole house, a methodical order to it, in the other rooms only broken by the messy traces of a child. But here Penta sees tidiness it's almost sparse. Tentatively he goes over to a dresser and pulls open a drawer. Clothes. He pulls open the next.

 

“If your thing is looking at my underwear you should have just asked.” Harrison leans in the door frame with crossed arms and an amused look.

 

Penta closes the drawer with more force than necessary. On top of the dresser a picture frame is lying face down. He picks it up and looks at it. It's the picture of a woman; you could almost call her beautiful were it not for a certain sharpness of her features. In the picture she is looking away from the camera, standing in what looks like the downstairs kitchen. She is wearing a striped shirt and simple jeans, hands on her hips, listening to someone with furrowed brows.

 

“Tess Wells, formerly Morgan,” Penta says and looks at Harrison. “Your wife.” When Harrison doesn't react except for the disappearing of the smile Penta goes on. “You were both researching what is commonly called the Clearing.”

 

“Commonly? What do you call it?” Harrison asks.

 

“We don't have a name for it,” Penta says. “She disappeared over a year ago under mysterious circumstances.” He looks back at Harrison who simply nods. “What does the police say?”

 

“She- She was supposed to go to a conference in New York. She packed her bags and went to the airport. She called me from there. She sounded fine. Normal. But she never made it to the conference. The police thinks- she simply left. Me. Us.”

 

Penta nods and puts the picture back down. He has seen enough for today. Harrison is still staring into the space between them. Penta pushes past him and wanders back downstairs. When he reaches the living room, the room that is the furthest away from the bedroom, he opens a window.

 

“What are you doing?” Harrison asks who comes into the room a second later.

 

“You're house needs some air,” Penta says and calls the wind quietly. It flows past him with a little whisper, caressing his cheek as it goes by. “Leave this open for an hour,” He orders Harrison.

 

“An hour? Do you know how cold it is outside?”

 

“Alright, ten minutes.” Penta hops on the windowsill to put a sticker over the window.

 

Harrison comes closer to inspect what Penta is doing. “Is that a Mickey Mouse sticker?”

 

“Yes. You should leave it there.” Penta hops back down and comes face to face with Harrison. “Here.” He gives him his card. “My phone number. Text me if anything weird happens.”

 

“What do you mean, weird?” Harrison asks, looking at the card.

 

“Eh, you'll know,” Penta says and pats him on the arm. “Look, this is going to be easy. You just have to do two things: You have to trust me. And you have to do exactly what I tell you to.”

 

Harrison looks down at him with a look somewhere between amused and questioning. There is a pause and Penta almost thinks Harrison is going to kick him out. Would be the wisest decision for both of them anyway.

 

“Alright,” Harrison says. “Got it.”

 

“Cool,” Penta says, already making his way to the door. “I'll call you.”

 

Harrison catches up with him at the door. “When do we start?” He asks. “I'll have to call my cousin to take care of Jesse.”

 

“Chill,” Penta says. “We're not going to start anytime soon. Preparations first.”

 

With that he is out of the door. He goes home and makes some calls. The disappearance of Tess Wells is still on his mind. When the calls lead nowhere he lets it rest for the day. They'll have enough time to figure this out.

 

He heats water for tea and settles in what he calls his workroom. Every wall is lined with shelves high under the ceiling, even the windows are hidden behind boxes and folders. There is a desk with computers and screens, the floor is strewn with random stuff he never got around to packing away. He aimlessly googles around for a while until the water is ready. He blows over the hot tea while clicking through a photo gallery of Tess and Harrison Wells.

 

They looked happy as far as Penta can judge. They were stars in their respective fields even before they met and started joining their research. The last ten years they spend compiling the most comprehensive material on the Clearing ever seen outside of the School. It's still a lot of guessing and throwing theories against the wall to see what sticks, but Penta is impressed. Of course they were going at it from the complete wrong angle but they did find an impressive number of first hand witnesses; travelers that stumbled upon it by accident or seekers that got lucky. He wonders how they got them to speak to them. Money wouldn't be enough.

 

He leans back in his chair and goes looking for Cisco.

 

He finds him wandering through a corn maze.

 

“Did you get lost?” He asks.

 

“Nah,” Cisco says. “Always found mazes fascinating. I didn't know we have like a backyard full of them.”

 

“They're good for practice,” Penta says. “I'd have you make one but-”

 

Cisco picks one cob from the green plants and inspects it in his hand. “It looks so real. I can feel it in my hand and yet-” He closes his hand and the cob dissolves. “But you wanted to talk, right?”

 

They leave the maze, the exit is just around the corner. Cisco throws Penta a suspecting look but doesn't say anything. Penta guides him to the ocean. He's not sure which one of them made it but it has been here as long as he can remember. It's seemingly endless, stretching to the horizon and further but the really impressive view is under water. It has such an intricate and beautiful ecosystem it must have been someone truly inspired who build it. They sit down in the sand, quiet for a while. Cisco pulls his boots and socks off and pushes his toes into the sand.

 

“Sometimes I don't know how I'd make it without this,” He admits.

 

Penta doesn't say anything, just watches the sun slowly fall towards the water. He doesn't quite remember when he decided that this here is his favorite other self, didn't even plan on having a favorite. This Cisco knows violence in a way Penta never has, in a way he has always avoided even though he knows he is capable of it. He looks down on their shoes, Cisco's heavy boots lying in the sand next to his sneakers. Maybe it's him being so down to earth, a quality a lot of them are missing.

 

Penta knows that many would consider it sad or pathetic that his best friend is himself but Penta is okay with it.

 

“Tell me about Tess,” Penta says finally.

 

Cisco watches him for a moment before he answers, “She is effective. Obsessive, real eye for the detail. Kinda an acquired taste but I like her. She leaves no room for bullshit, I an appreciate that. And she has her code. She's very firm on that. She'll do crazy stuff but there are some lines that she won't cross. I guess that's what really sets her apart from Harrison. He'd do anything to get what he wants.”

 

Penta thinks about what Cisco has said.

 

“I guess that means you decided to help him?” Cisco asks.

 

“Yes. I'm- Do you want to hear this?” Penta asks because he'd perfectly understand if Cisco doesn't.

 

“Probably not. But tell me anyway.” Cisco chuckles but there is no joy behind it.

 

“She disappeared. Tess Wells. I'm still trying to figure out how she fits into all of it, if she'll have anything to do with it at all. I guess I just feel like if I had known her that would help me.”

 

“In my experience it's never what it looks like with the Wells. They're both very good at deflecting and lying – to other people and to themselves,” Cisco says.

 

“She left him, right?” Penta asks.

 

“In my world? Yeah.” Cisco shrugs. “I heard that it came as a surprise to him but to people who knew them it was clear that they were heading in different directions.” He pauses. “But I mean, look at us. Who knows why your Wells are doing what they're doing. We're all so different.”

 

“Maybe,” Penta says. It's a sore point and probably the only topic that really divides all the Cisco's over the multiverse. The question of Nurture vs. Nature. Are people the same in every world they exist in, with only some differences due to their circumstances or do they just happen to look alike. Cisco always says that the spiritual 'we're all the same' explanation kinda escapes him. Penta tries not to be offended.

 

They stay on the beach for longer, talking about other things, topics that aren't as loaded.

 

Penta wakes up the next day to a text from Harrison that reads: _What have you done to my house? Never slept better._

 

He shoots back a: _You're welcome!_ And tries not to grin too much.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the other cisco lives the zombie au life. it's all very sad and angsty.


	2. Chapter 2

The next time they meet Penta comes by the house when Jesse is still in school. He kind of sneaks through the hedges and bushes to walk around the house for a few times before he enters. Better safe than sorry. Harrison lets him in, tucking a branch out of his hair.

 

“What are you up to?” He asks.

 

“Oh, the usual,” Cisco deflects and wanders into the living room.

 

“So, what's going to happen?” Harrison asks. He does look like he sleeps better, Penta notices.

 

“You're gonna love this,” He says. “You can ask me any question you have and I will answer it. In fact I encourage you to always ask the moment new questions arise. When we start we can't talk about it anymore. And it's harder for it to influence you when you know what's going on.” When you think you know what's going on, Penta doesn't say.

 

“Okay,” Harrison says. “I'll make some coffee.”

 

Penta follows him into the kitchen. “Can I look into your fridge?”

 

“Why?” Harrison asks.

 

“Just- out of interest?” Penta says.

 

“You said you'd answer all my questions,” Harrison says and raises his eyebrows expectantly.

 

“Alright,” Cisco gives in. “What I do is basically energy work. There are a lot of places in a house that can attract negative energy. Persons as well. It's kind of a big deal in the way that when you have too much negative energy in your space it won't kill you but it- dampens everything. It's like a gray veil over your life. So I just wanted to be nice and take a look at your fridge. Actually I strongly suggest you'd find someone who does a proper cleaning of this whole house. It's seriously crazy that you live in here.”

 

Harrison's eyebrows rise higher and higher but he doesn't object. “Alright. Knock yourself out.”

 

So Penta turns the fridge upside down while Harrison makes coffee. Who is he kidding, he's going to clean this whole damn house himself. He'll probably spend a lot of time here in the future. When he's ready he puts a bag of stuff he pulled out of the fridge on the table.

 

“I'll take that with me,” He says to Harrison.

 

“You're going to take my spoiled milk with you?” Harrison asks as he looks into the bag.

 

“Let me be clearer. I'm gonna take it with me to the nearest trashcan,” Penta explains.

 

“The Nutella,” Harrison notes.

 

“Yes. Do you like that?”

 

“Maybe,” Harrison says.

 

“Wouldn't buy anymore of that,” Penta suggests. He takes one cup out of Harrison's hands and wanders back into the living room. He sits down on the couch and looks around again. He already swept this room but he didn't really look at the place then. The couch is comfortable and there is a desk with a lot of paper and crayons on it. The bookshelves are overflowing and Penta sees that most of them aren't science publications. He spots Lord of the Rings and snickers in his head. Someone is a fantasy nerd here.

 

Harrison sits down in an armchair and watches him over the rim of his cup. Penta waits patiently until he has collected his thoughts.

 

“So what is _it_?” Harrison asks.

 

“Should have known that would be the first question,” Penta laughs. “But I'm afraid that is the one I can't really answer. Our human brains are not made to understand it. Like ants at the side of a freeway who have no concept of what a freeway even is. I could tell you plenty of metaphors though. Let me think, you're a scientist. So, think of it as another force of nature, just like gravity. Some people say it's kinda like the water cycle of energy. But those examples don't really describe it completely. It's more complex.”

 

Harrison nods. “You always talk about it as if it is sentient.”

 

“It's sentient in the way a plant grows towards the light or fungi communicate with each other.”

 

“With all that we discovered in our research, what happened to people who came in contact with it, sometimes I can't help but think that it is- I don't know. Evil.”

 

Penta sighs. “There is no good or evil when it comes to it. Sure, we humans have categorized certain incidents and actions as bad but in nature those categories don't exist. It just is. The way a tornado or an earth-quake isn't evil. Or the way god is not evil when he sends a flood.”

 

“God? Really?” Harrison asked. “If this wouldn't have felt so out there from the beginning that would have tipped it over the edge.”

 

“I do excuse your stupidity because it freaks everyone out, but I did think you were smarter than that,” Penta says and holds a hand up when Harrison wants to complain. “You should know that in history everything that is hard to understand or unbelievable is labeled occult or magic. When in fact it is only science.”

 

“You're telling me that it's all science?” Harrison asked. “I saw a guy produce a flame in his hand. You call that science?”

 

“Yeah, it's just manipulation of matter,” Penta says and shrugs.

 

“That's not humanly possible,” Harrison argues.

 

“No, not for every human. But for some. Your daughter for example. She could do it.”

 

“Jesse?” Harrison asks. He doesn't look too happy. “Really?”

 

“Yes. But it's a bit late for her to learn now.”

 

“Okay, okay,” Harrison closes his eyes to concentrate. “I kinda get what you're saying about it being a force of nature and being neutral. That makes a lot of sense actually. Where did you learn all that?”

 

“At the School,” Penta says. Obviously, he thinks.

 

“Don't you think you should share this knowledge,” Harrison asks. “With the world, I mean.”

 

“The opinions differ but I think it's wise if most of the world think it's all hocus-pocus,” Penta says. “It can be really dangerous when amateurs fiddle with it. As I am sure you are aware.” That might have been a low blow but Penta is getting fed up with Harrison's arrogant attitude.

 

Harrison is quiet for a while. Then he asks, “How long will the preparations take?”

 

“I don't know. As long as we need.”

 

“We?” Harrison asks.

 

“What? You think we make school excursions there?” Cisco snaps. “I have to prepare, too. This is not what we get trained for. We're not encourage to go there. We're not forbidden, but we certainly don't get tips either.”

 

“What are you trained for?” Harrison asked. “What do they teach you in your School? How to make potions?”

 

“All the stuff you hear or read about witches from the Middle Age is maybe not exactly wrong but outdated. It's not about the material, it's about intent. You can do it with anything, even a Mickey Mouse sticker.” He smiles up at the sticker that is still firmly in place over the window. At least Harrison is doing what he is being told.

 

“What's that for anyway?” Harrison asks. “Honestly I kind of think you're doing half of your stuff just to mess with my head.”

 

“It's for protection,” Penta says. “Kind of want to place some more stickers, especially if we keep talking about it in here. You know that talking about a thing is like conjuring it. Did you and Tess ever work at home? Discussed your research here?”

 

“Sure, all the time,” Harrison says.

 

Penta doesn't say anything but Harrison must have read his expression well enough to understand that that wasn't a great idea.

 

“Do whatever you want,” Harrison says. “Look, I might not believe everything people say about this- thing. But I'm not stupid either. My contacts say you know what you're doing and I'm not risking that anything happens to Jesse. Better safe than sorry. So do your thing and I'll do what you say.”

 

“I certainly like the sound of that,” Penta says. “It does raise one question. Who is your contact?”

 

Harrison shrugs. “How will preparations look like anyway? Are we going to mediate?”

 

Penta lets it slide. He has a good idea about who referred him, anyway. “As much as I would love for you to mediate I'm aware that you're probably the kinda guy who can't sit still for a minute without doing anything. So I thought, we'd walk. Yeah, I think it's going to be a lot of walking and talking.”

 

“You have no idea what you're doing,” Harrison says. It's not a question.

 

“I have a general idea and a sense of direction,” Penta answers. “That's all we'll need.”

 

They drink their coffee quietly for a while. Penta considers places to put his stickers and wishes he'd brought some more stuff over. Later.

 

“Why are you doing it, anyway?” Harrison asks. “Why are you helping me?”

 

“That's kinda my thing,” Penta says. “Helping people. Not much else you can do with my - - gifts. And it is rewarding.”

 

“Tell me, you probably never take payments for these kind of things. I heard that's the way it works. How do you pay your bills?”

 

“I have no bills. I live in a cave in the forest and feed of worms,” Penta says and it does get a chuckle out of Harrison. “No. Honestly I have a side business.”

 

“That just sounds like you're part-time stripper,” Harrison says.

 

“Can you maybe not,” Penta says. “I'm an engineer, alright.”

 

“You're an engineer?” Harrison asks and suddenly there is a new interest in his eyes, as if he is seeing Penta in a whole different light.

 

“Yeah, they encourage us to study something else in School. Preferable something science-y so we use both parts of our brain.”

 

“Any good?” Harrison asks in a challenging tone.

 

Penta sighs and then points to a device that is sitting on a shelve. “That won't work.”

 

“I know,” Harrison says. “That's why I put it there. It's for another project. I haven't figured out how to fix it yet. Did you see that just by looking at it?”

 

“No, I took a closer look the last time I was here,” Penta admits. He gets up and takes the device. “Okay, get ready to be amazed. It's really not that hard but I guess it could be easy to overlook if- I don't know. It's not that hard really.” And then he proceeds to explain what and how it needs to be fixed.

 

“I have to admit, I'm impressed,” Harrison says. “Thank you. I was kind of stuck there.”

 

“I noticed,” Penta says.

 

Harrison gets up and extends his hand to him. “Let's do this.”

 

Penta shakes his hand wearily. “That just really changed your opinion on me, didn't it.”

 

“Mmh, no, I still think you're weird,” Harrison says but the arrogant tone from before is gone.

 

The next chance Penta gets he calls Iris up.

 

“How did _you_ get to know Harrison Wells?” He asks without greeting.

 

“Well, hello there,” She says. “He found me actually.”

 

“How did _he_ find you?” Iris West is, depending on who you ask, either the head or the heart of Central. At day she is major of the city and at night she manages the biggest black market in the states. How she finds time to do both is beyond Penta. He believes she got some low-level idiot on her payroll who thinks time pouches are a fun thing to do. But he is not going to lecture someone like Iris West on the danger of time manipulation. The point: you have to dig really deep to know that the major of Central can refer you to a guide.

 

“Oh, he came to me the first time when he was still doing that research with his wife,” Iris tells him In the background there are some weird noises. Penta doesn't even want to know what she is up to. “They were just looking for people who had seen it back then. Next thing I know he is alone on my doorsteps and asks how he can get there.”

 

“Why did you refer him to me? Not like there aren't enough of us in Central that are-,” He doesn't know what to say. More sociable, maybe. Less intense.

 

“He wanted the best. And I had a feeling that you two might get along.”

 

“A feeling, huh.” Her gut instincts are force to be reckoned with, Penta had witnessed that on many occasions. “Getting along is maybe not the word I would use.”

 

“You haven't killed each other yet and that's a good sign for both of you,” Iris says. “I gotta run. Have fun, P.”

 

Fun. Penta sighs. He wanted the best. Of course he did. Harrison wouldn't settle for less. And Penta is the best, he knows that and it's not even bragging. It's a simple fact. But in the face of _it_ it doesn't matter how good you are. It can see deep down to your chore, who you are on the most basic level. Iris might have oversold him to Harrison. But now it is too late to turn back anyway.

 

They meet – again at Harrison's place – and Penta takes an hour to do his thing while Harrison is confined to the kitchen and is not allowed to look.

 

“How do I know you're not just burning all my stuff?” He shouts when Penta walks by the kitchen.

 

“You would notice the smell,” Penta yells back.

 

The thought has crossed Penta's mind. Parts of this house are so drenched in emotions it makes Penta's skin itch, makes him nauseous, and he knows that this is how normal people live, that they don't even realize it and that they might even regard it as a good thing. They call it having good memories of a place or thing. For Penta it's all just baggage, it disorients him, it weakens his powers.

 

But still, he doesn't burn Harrison's CD collection, even if it is horribly old school. Instead he lets a strong clear wind sweep through the house, afterward closing all windows and doors intently and putting a sticker over each one. He uses the time to snoop around a bit more. He goes through the drawers and boxes where Harrison had apparently put all of Tess' stuff. Her clothes are still hanging next to his in their wardrobe. Penta doesn't know if he finds what he is looking for, doesn't even know what he is looking for or why he chases after an impression of this woman. When the clatter of dishes drifts up from the kitchen, signaling Harrison going stir-crazy, Penta lets it be.

 

“What did you tell you're daughter who I am?” Penta asks over coffee. He's perched on a stool at the kitchen counter. Harrison had started to cook while confined to the kitchen and is now stirring something in a pot.

 

“That you help me with my work,” He answers.

 

“Nice omission of the truth,” Penta says and holds his hand up for a high-five but Harrison just glares at him. “No, really. It's good you didn't lie to her. We need to keep your relationship stable.”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“It means that she is your link,” Penta says and takes a sip of the coffee. He flinches. Still too hot.

 

“My link to what?” Harrison asks.

 

“To this world,” Penta answers. “As long as you have her I don't have to worry about you getting lost too easily.”

 

Harrison doesn't say anything to that, just keeps stirring. “That's a real danger, isn't it,” He says finally. “Getting lost.”

 

“Yes,” Penta answers. He knows there is something more to Harrison's words, that he is thinking about something but he doesn't say it out loud.

 

Over rice and vegetables they talk more.

 

“I talked to a couple of people who claim that they were actually there,” Harrison says. “In the clearing. They seemed all- I don't know how describe it. A bit off?”

 

“People change,” Penta says. “It changes people.”

 

“What will happen to us?”

 

Penta shrugs. “Who knows.” He takes another spoonful of rice before he decides to tell the story. “I had this- Well, I wouldn't call him a friend. But a boy I knew in School. He just always seemed out of place, never really got along with anyone. He was obsessed with getting stronger because that was the only thing he could get recognition for, I guess. He thought if he went there he would get even more powerful. It's said to give us our powers but I don't think that is how it actually is. It think it's more that we all carry a small piece of it in us. But I couldn't convince him to stay. I could have alerted our mentor but then they'd have probably kicked him out and that might have destroyed him. So I let him go. He was only fifteen.”

 

“Did he find it?” Harrison asks.

 

“Yes,” Penta says. “But when he came back- He was different. I don't know if it even was him who came back.” He pushes his plate away, all his appetite gone.

 

“What did he say about it?”

 

“Nothing really,” Penta says. “He didn't talk much anymore.”

 

Harrison watches him quietly for a moment, studying his face as if he wants to see if Penta is lying. “Did his abilities get better?” He asks finally.

 

“No. I'd say they even got worse.”

 

They do walk a lot, mostly to get the stamina and those walks are silent as per Penta's instruction. It's easy for Harrison at first, Penta can see him retreating into his head, getting lost in thoughts and projects. When Penta orders him to stay focused on his surroundings, to not drift away in his thoughts it gets harder for Harrison to stay quiet. Whenever he does drift off again Penta sends little sparks of electricity his way to keep him focused. He might enjoy the way Harrison startles a bit too much. When Harrison's figures out that Penta is _practicing electro-shock therapy on him_ (his words) he sulks for a week.

 

Time passes and then it's suddenly summer and they still haven't started. Penta is surprised by Harrison's patience, but even more he is surprised by his friendliness. He doesn't know when this turned from a job into eating tortillas on the floor and laughing about nothing at all.

 

(Even though he should have expected it, knows it the way he sees the energy drift in the space between, that this was a long time coming. That there is something in the universe about Harrison Wells and Francisco Ramon, no matter what name he takes, that makes this work so effortlessly.)

 

((And maybe he should be smarter about this, maybe worry about how the future is shrouded in a dark mist, like it never had been before. He should worry about what is coming. But then Jesse pulls him into the garden and throws a ball against his head until he indulges her.))

 

Harrison digs back into his research in an effort to find all the questions to ask Penta. And Penta tells him everything he knows. One evening Penta comes over. Jesse is already half in his arms before he can close the door. He lifts her from the ground and she giggles excitedly.

 

“Uff. I don't know how much longer I can do this,” Penta says and pretends to buckle under her weight. “You're getting tall, Jesse.”

 

“Then you need to get stronger,” She shrieks.

 

“Right,” Penta says. Carries her into the living room where Harrison has his head in a bookshelf apparently looking for something. “Hi, Harry.” Penta says just for the annoyed grunt that it earns him.

 

“Stop calling me that,” Harrison says without looking up from his search. “I got something here I want to show you. Just give me second.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Penta says and uses the opportunity to let tiny sparks fly in front of Jesse's face. She laughs excitedly, trying to catch the sparks with her hands.

 

“Dad, Dad,” She yells. “Look what he's doing.”

 

Harrison turns around but Penta has already extinguished the sparks. “I'm not doing anything,” He says to Harrison's glare.

 

“I want to do that, too,” Jesse says, crossing her arms and pouting at Penta. “Show me.”

 

“Your dad would kill me, sweetie,” Penta says and sets her down because his back is starting to protest. And Harrison just might. He doesn't like it when Jesse gets in contact with anything he doesn't understand. Which is still a lot. It's kind of ridiculous but Penta is at least trying to indulge Harrison's illusion that he is always the smartest guy in the room.

 

Jesse is jumping around Harrison but he shoos her off to bed. After Penta has read her two (2) good night stories and sang one (1) song and she is finally asleep they sit down on the porch that leads out to the backyard. It's a quiet summer evening, the dusk stretching into eternity, crickets chirping endlessly. Penta got his converse up on the hand rail. Harrison is unusually still but Penta is not going to ruin a good thing with stupid questions. Instead he stretches himself to the corner of a different universe, finds the person he is looking for and sends a mental image of this moment his way; the peace, the quiet, the trees swaying in the evening breeze. He feels Cisco's annoyance at the message but it's tangled up with warmth and thankfulness.

 

“Do you think-” Harrison says after a while. “I mean do you think it's possible that _it_ had something to do with Tess-” He breaks himself off. Looks as if he doesn't believe he is actually saying this.

 

Penta shrugs. “What do you think?”

 

“It doesn't make any sense that she would just leave like this- Fuck.” Harrison rubs a hand over his eyes. “She wouldn't run away without saying anything,” He adds firmer. “Even if she would leave me. If she would leave Jesse. She would have said something.”

 

Penta watches Harrison in the half dark. It sounds like he has thought about this a thousand times, laying out every option and weighed out the possibilities. He squints out in the garden, carefully avoiding to look at Penta. “Maybe she got lost,” He says. “Maybe it took her.” Now he does look at Penta, searching, pleading. “Do you think that is possible?”

 

Penta doesn't know what to say. How to deal with this. He doesn't want to get Harrison's hope up. There is still the very likely option that Tess Wells never appeared again because she isn't alive anymore. On the other hand, she did get pretty close to it. And if she was especially perceptive, if she was like her daughter - - but there really isn't any sense in speculating about it.

 

“There is no way of knowing,” Penta says quietly.

 

Harrison nods. Looks back out to the garden. “There is the other possibility,” He says, “That she went looking for it. That she found a guide that would take her. She knew I would have never let her.”

 

“I thought about that, too,” Penta admits. “But according to my resources she never contacted any of the persons who would be able to guide her. At least not in Central.”

 

Harrison studies his face for a moment before he asks, “You looked for her?”

 

“Yeah,” Penta says and feels suddenly uncomfortable. “Just called up some people. But no one heard of her.” It was still possible that she went to some idiot who had no idea what they were doing. There were enough of them out their, promising to take you to the fountain of youth for the right price and Penta couldn't possibly run them all down.

 

“Thank you,” Harrison says after a beat. “Thank you.”

 

“Wasn't much of a help,” Penta deflects.

 

“Thank you anyway,” Harrison says and it looks like he fights hard to get the smile on his face.

 

It's hard to see him like this. Penta thinks about opening a portal, about showing him something that would distract him. Can already hear the offended comments he would make if he found out that there is a multiverse and Penta never cared to tell him about it. But Penta knows that this here is important. Harrison probably hardly allows himself to grief for Tess, never lets himself because he thinks he has to be strong for Jesse. So Penta lets him be sad. He sleeps over on the couch. Lets Harrison complain that he could at least pretend to be helpful with getting Jesse ready for school.

 

The seasons change again and before he knows it it is winter and he is building a snowman with Jesse. Or rather Jesse is showing him how to build a snowman. Harrison is standing on the porch and shakes his head.

 

“How do you not know how to do this?” He asks somewhere between amused and disturbed.

 

“Look, I grew up in a boarding school with very strict rules,” Penta says while he tries to make his ball of snow roll over the ground. Jesse has already formed a ball that's almost her size.

 

Harrison's face pulls into a grimace like Penta just suggested that gravity isn't a thing. “What? They didn't allow you to have fun? Was it some kind of Footloose situation? Did someone die while having fun once?”

 

Penta snorts. “Look, Jesse is teaching me now so all is well.”

 

“I don't know,” Harrison says. “From your stories your School just doesn't seem like a great place to grow up.” And he sounds so earnest about it that Penta might have an emotion or two about it.

 

“Please, spare me your pity,” He says, patting some snow on his ball. “We did have fun. Tons of fun.”

 

“Sure,” Harrison says with half a smile. “Whatever you say.”

 

“You're doing it all wrong,” Jesse chimes in, looking disapproving at Penta's excuse of a snow ball. “It has to get much bigger. Look, here.” She rolls the ball over a fresh patch of snow and it's instantly growing in size.

 

“Wow, how are you doing this?” Penta exclaims. “That's magic!”

 

“No, it's not,” Jesse says and rolls her eyes.

 

“I'm gonna go inside,” Harrison says. “I can't handle watching this.”

 

As soon as the door closes behind Harrison Penta blows into the snow and it swirls up and together until it forms a prefect round ball.

 

“That's cheating,” Jesse yells and throws her snow ball at Penta.

 


	3. Chapter 3

On the first morning of spring Penta wakes up with a shock, panting and sweating, and he knows it noticed them. He spends hours renewing the wards around and in his house, the terror of something watching him never leaving completely. As a panic settles deep in his chest he realizes that he crossed the point of no return without noticing it.

 

He shoots Harrison a text saying, “It's time.” Doesn't even worry about it being too ominous, because he is feeling pretty damn ominous right now. He eats something without paying it any attention, the sun already setting again, and he leaves the house to make his way towards The Night Shift.

 

It's a small, crappy bar in downtown Central that serves spectacularly bad beer in a spectacularly dirty environment but is packed every night nonetheless. Penta makes his way through the crowd until he reaches the back of the bar where a big woman is standing in front of a dark wooden door. She has a small, intricate tattoo winding around the left side of her face, similar to that on Penta's. A couple is talking at her, asking her to let them inside but she doesn't budge until she sees Penta make his way towards her. They exchange nods and the woman lets Penta through, ignoring the complaints of the couple.

 

Behind the door a winding stairwell leads downwards into moldy air and darkness. Penta rests his hand on the handrail and trusts his feet to know the way blindly. At the bottom of the stairs there is another door and when Penta pushes it open he is immediately engulfed in light and noise. He steps into the large halls of Central's underground black market.

 

People stream past him, the air is filled with yells and laughter, the flickering light of fire, large balls of it levitating over all their heads, throws long moving shadows on the walls. Penta wanders the rows of booths for a while, looking for nothing in particular. He lingers a while at a booth that sells jewelery, made of material you should rather not think about too much, each piece charged differently. He runs his fingers over a pair of simple leather bracelets, and buys them finally.

 

Towards the end of the market halls wooden stairs lead up the side of a wall into a cabin that overlooks everything. Penta passes the security posted at the bottom of the stairs with another nod and makes his way upstairs. Inside the cabin Iris West rules over her lands. She is wearing a pantsuit, looking as stunningly beautiful as usual.

 

“My dear,” She exclaims when she sees Penta and wraps her arms around him. “What do I owe the pleasure of your visit to?”

 

“I'm here to say goodbye,” He says.

 

She leans back, hands on his shoulders and studies his face. “So, it's time,” She says.

 

“Yes,” He replies.

 

“Do you need anything?” She asks. Penta loves her for that, her pragmatism, his clever, clever girl. What would he do without her.

 

“Just be here when I come back,” He says. She stills. Sadness coils around his chest like a snake. She leans forward and gives him a short kiss on the lips.

 

“I'm going nowhere,” She answers quietly.

 

The next day Penta appears at the Wells' house. Just as he opens the gate to the garden the front door opens and Harrison shoos Jesse outside. She looks like she is sulking, backpack over one shoulder and a stuffed bear under the other arm.

 

“Look who's here,” Harrison says to her, sounding like he is trying to cheer her up.

 

Penta smiles at Jesse as she walks up to him. She frowns at him with an expression that she clearly learned from her father. “Why can't I come with you?” She asks Penta.

 

Penta kneels in front of her and bops her on the nose. “You don't wanna come with us. It's going to be super boring. And you wouldn't see your friends for a long time.”

 

“But I would have you,” She insists, putting her hands on her hips.

 

“Actually, I have a very important job for you,” Penta says and takes both her hands into his. “But for that job you have to stay here.”

 

“What job?” Jesse asks, still sulking but obviously interested.

 

Penta opens her hands and inside her palms lies a flower. “You have to take care of this flower, okay? It's a special flower. As long as this flower blooms your dad and me will always find our way home. So we need someone we can trust to take care of it.”

 

“Really?” Jesse asks with doubt in her voice.

 

“Yeah. And you can even talk to us through the flower,” Penta says. “We won't be able to answer but we will hear you. So, will you do that for us?”

 

Jesse looks down on the flower for a moment then she nods. “Okay.” She throws her thin arms around Penta's neck. “Goodbye, Penta.” She twists her head around to Harrison who is standing behind her. “Don't listen!” She says to him and then whispers into Penta's ear, “Promise me you bring him back.”

 

“I promise,” Penta whispers back and hugs her tight.

 

When Jesse is safe and sound in the car of Harrison's cousin, Harrison says to Penta, “What is she going to think when that flower welds.”

 

“It's a magical flower, Harry. It doesn't weld.” Penta says and Harrison rolls his eyes but can't quite hide a smile.

 

“Let's go,” Harrison says.

 

“Yeah, let's go,” Penta says.

 

They pile the camping equipment they have bought over the months into Harrison's car. Harrison lingers a moment at the front door before he locks it and comes over with long strides. He leans next to Penta against the car.

 

“I keep thinking about her coming back now to find this empty house,” Harrison says. “It's stupid.”

 

Penta brushes his shoulder against his. “You still wanna go through with this?”

 

Harrison closes his eyes for a moment. Then he nods.

 

They are quiet on the drive. Penta guides them to the forests that stretch around Central and up into the mountains that bracket the city on one side. They park when the road ends and Harrison turns to him, looking a bit perplexed. “It's _this_ forest?”

 

“It's every forest, dumb-dumb,” Penta says and gets out of the car. The air is fresh and crisp, a few clouds drifting over the sky while the spring sun tries its best to warm up the earth. Out here Penta can feel it even stronger, like a pull in the back of his mind.

 

“There are some rules,” He says to Harrison.

 

“Of course there are.”

 

“First of all, no names,” Penta explains. “Should be easy for you because you don't know my real name anyway.”

 

“Why am I not surprised,” Harrison mumbles to himself as he starts unloading the car. “Of course that's not your name.”

 

“Well, it's my name as far as you are concerned. It's just not my given name. It's my chosen name. Given names hold power over us and we don't want to give it that power.” Penta says, ignoring the offended tone in Harrison's voice. “And you should wear this.” He holds out one of the leather bracelets he bought last night.

 

Harrison takes it and looks at it. “What's that?”

 

“Protection,” Penta says.

 

“How does it work,” Harrison asks but he is already putting it around his wrist.

 

“Magic,” Penta evades, the other bracelet tight around his wrist, hidden under long sleeves. Harrison doesn't need to know how exactly it works. He wouldn't like it. But Penta is not here to please Harrison but to make sure he survives this.

 

“Anything else?” Harrison asks and hands Penta his backpack.

 

“Well, the usual,” Penta says.

 

“Do what you say?”

 

“Exactly,” Penta says and smiles. “And another thing: I am leading the way. You never even take as much as a step before me.”

 

Harrison huffs out a breath and gestures to the trees, “Okay, hot shot, lead the way.”

 

At first it is easy, just as Penta had expected, the feeling of being observed shrinking back until it's only a tiny thrum at the edge of his mind. The woods sway in a breeze, the cracking and rushing of nature around them and Penta feels too big for his skin, the way he sometimes does when nature seems to bare itself to him, to give itself over willingly to be bend by his will. They follow trail after trail, winding deeper and deeper into the woods, following a path that Penta chooses at random. They walk, turning left and right, until Penta has lost all sense of direction. When the sun sets he is pretty sure he wouldn't find back to the car. They are lost in the woods.

 

They set up camp in a small clearing. Tomorrow everything will be different.

 

The sound wakes them up at night. It's a drumming that runs deep through the earth. It's not from drums, more like a heartbeat echoing between the trees. Harrison wants to go out of the tent to check but Penta holds him back. Try to sleep, he says. Neither of them does.

 

In the morning there are hoof prints on the ground that weren't there before. Harrison shoots Penta a questioning look but Penta just shakes his head. No questions here. Not that Penta could answer them anyway.

 

They walk slowly the first day. Penta follows the thrum that runs through his body like electricity. He's lightheaded and he realizes that this will also be hard on his body, not just on his mind. He looks over to Harrison who doesn't look frightened, not exactly, but he doesn't look very comfortable either.

 

The next day it rains. The sky is a lifeless gray and they find cover under a mossy cliff. Harrison tries to start a fire, piling sticks over each other like he learned it from a manual. Penta tries not to laugh too obviously when the wet wood doesn't even pretend to catch on fire. Penta thinks about helping without telling Harrison but the guy doesn't need more food for his ego.

 

“Let me,” Penta says, and half a second later the fire is burning.

 

Harrison pulls his hands away quickly. He turns to Penta. “How did you-?”

 

“I asked nicely,” Penta says with a grin but when Harrison keeps frowning at him, he adds, “I changed the molecular structure of the wood.”

 

Harrison still looks like he wants to say, that's not possible, but he keeps his mouth shut and they sit and wait while the rain pours down around them. Harrison keeps piling more sticks on the fire and after a while it's almost comfortably warm. The thrum quiets down until it fades into the background noise of existence.

 

“What's that?” Harrison asks and tips against his own temple, where Penta wears a tattoo, long black swirls and figures in something that looks like ink.

 

“Vanity,” Penta replies. It's curious that Harrison hasn't asked earlier; Penta had almost assumed he just knew. But there are some things on this earth that Harrison Wells doesn't know about and Penta is very happy about that.

 

Harrison frowns at Penta's reply. “That doesn't seem like you.”

 

“Well, there are still some things you don't know about me,” Penta says and hopes the vagueness annoys Harrison enough to stop prying because Penta isn't sure if he wouldn't tell him if he kept asking.

 

Of course, Harrison seems to smell that, like a dog smells fear. “I've seen the pattern before,” He says, boring a hole into the soft ground with a stick. “But I can't remember where.”

 

Penta traces the tattoo with his fingers, sense memory sending a shiver down his spine. “It's a sign of faith,” He admits finally. “An offering was brought. An oath was spoken. So as it was. So shall it be.” The words echo in his mind, and he feels the relief again that he had felt when he first heard them.

 

Harrison looks at him and his expression shifts slowly from confusion to bewilderment. “Are you in a cult?” He asks, and there is suddenly concern in his voice. Penta laughs.

 

“We've been over this,” Penta says, dipping into the well of patience he discovered he possessed since he met Harrison. “Cult, magic – those are all just words for things you don't understand.”

 

Harrison looks like he wants to argue, of course, but he shuts up. Just keeps digging through the earth with his stick. “It's a language,” He says after a while. “It's an ancient language, isn't it. I remember. I saw it in a seminar about -” He hesitates, as if his next words could offend Penta. “About paganism.”

 

“It's called the language of earth,” Penta says. Harrison listens intently. “It is said that the people who invented it still had a very deep and primal connection to nature, something humans have lost over time. There are stories of people turning into trees and back again. Talking to the wind. Falling in love with the moon.” Penta smiles to himself. “Supposedly, they used this language to communicate with nature.”

 

“What does yours say?” Harrison asks.

 

“It's hard to translate because it works very differently from our languages,” Penta explains. “There are no verbs or nouns or sentences. Each pattern stands for more of a concept. Mine means,” He closes his eyes, “To soothe.”

 

Harrison stays quiet and when Penta looks to him he looks stricken. “To soothe,” He repeats. “I like that.”

 

When the rain stops they walk for the rest of the day. Penta almost thinks Harrison is going to let it go but after night fall in the tent he asks, “How does that correlate with your School and the things you learned there?”

 

Penta has his eyes closed, trying to ignore the noises outside. “One is a practice. The other is a commitment. A way of life,” He says. He can almost hear the wheels in Harrison's brain turning and he takes pity on him. “At the School we are taught that our abilities come from nature just as scientists know that the laws of physic come from nature. But that doesn't mean everyone sees it as - - a higher principle.”

 

“It's religious,” Harrison says.

 

“In a way,” Penta sighs. “It's being part of something greater than yourself. It's opening yourself to something beyond understanding. It's accepting life as it comes to you and working with what you have been given.”

 

Harrison is quiet for a moment. Then he says, “I guess it must be nice if you can see it that way.”

 

Penta knows what he is thinking about. “I understand when other people don't,” Penta says. “It helped me deal with a lot of things but - - I don't know. Maybe some day something will happen to me that I won't be able to accept either.”

 

Harrison stays quiet this time and Penta falls asleep with a churning feeling in his guts.

 

The next morning he stumbles out of the tent and throws up into the bushes. He feels dizzy the whole day, doesn't even try to eat, just the thought of it making him sick. Harrison watches him with concern but doesn't say anything, let's him lead the way and catches him by the arm when he sways. Penta glares at trees as if they are to blame for this, in a way they are, he thinks, but not really. At least this means they are getting closer. The thrum is back, stronger than before. He feels his whole body vibrating with it.

 

At noon they rest by a clear creak. Penta is massaging his temples, eyes closed, when he hears Harrison yelp. He whips around. Harrison has sunken to his knees, staring at something on the other side of the creak but Penta doesn't see anything in the woodwork there. He rushes over to Harrison and shakes him, but Harrison seems frozen. Penta is about to slap him when his eyes start moving again. He looks up at Penta and then folds in on himself as if every energy just left him.

 

He doesn't talk about what he saw there.

 

They move on. Penta knows he isn't eating enough but he doesn't feel weak, as if he is pulling energy from somewhere else. As they move deeper and deeper into the woods the clearer it gets that Harrison isn't welcome here. Penta didn't want to ask before but now he clearly sees that Harrison feels it, too; the thrum. Penta knows he is shielding Harrison from the worst of it, the bracelet around his wrist burning hot from the strain, but still. Harrison has never learned how to let energy pass through him, how to guide it out of himself so it is all just building up. Harrison doesn't complain but it can't feel good.

 

Somewhere around the fourth day Penta tries to remember why they are doing this. He never wanted to see it. And he told Harrison that it is a stupid idea. He still doesn't know why he is taking the risk just to satisfy Harrison's curiosity.

 

“Do you think you'll find her here?” Penta asks because it's been so obvious he never cared to ask it.

 

Harrison looks at him surprised. But then he relaxes and he smiles at him, sadly. “No, I've given up hope long ago.”

 

They are walking over moss, it's been a long time since they saw a man-made trail. Thin, young trees lie strewn over the ground, sunken deep into the moss and soaked through with water. When they step on them they give in with a slurping crack. There is no other sound in the air.

 

Penta feels his feet sink in deep into the soft ground. The sun is hiding behind gray clouds again, and water drops from the leaves above them. He doesn't remember when he felt dry for the last time.

 

“What?” Harrison asks.

 

Penta looks up. “What?”

 

“What did you say?” Harrison asks again.

 

“Nothing,” Penta says. “I said nothing.”

 

Harrison frowns but let's it go.

 

That night Penta has a dream. He is walking through the woods. He has the feeling that something is watching him. It is so dark he can hardly see the trees. Over his head he sees the stars blink through the tree crowns but they seem off, forming constellation Penta has never seen before. He walks deeper and deeper into the forest. When he notices the sound it must have been there for a while already, slowly swelling, getting louder and louder until it is all that Penta can hear. It sounds like a scream even though Penta has never heard anything like it; a metallic scraping, a wavering whine. He comes to a clearing. He doesn't dare to move through it. He looks to the other side, and there on the edge of the clearing, hovering partly hidden by a tree, is a shadow. The shadow moves when Penta sees it, staying in the dark of the treeline. It moves with the grace of an animal, but much more effortlessly, as if it is floating over the ground. It moves towards Penta. He turns around and starts running. The sound is still in the air, drilling into Penta's mind, and he stumbles forward, trying not to crash into the trees. He knows it is following him. It is there every time he looks over his shoulder. Every time closer. Until he feels its breath on his neck, hot and wet, and he falls to the ground. Then there is a sharp pain blooming from his back, and he knows the beast is digging into him with sharp teeth. He screams but he can't move. He screams and screams as the beast eats him alive.

 

That morning Harrison finds him lying outside the tent, with blood on his hands and in his mouth and fur sticking to his clothes. Harrison looks scared. Penta doesn't know what to say to make it better. There are no wounds on his body, it isn't his blood. He has to throw up again even though he has barely eaten anything in the last days, it's mostly more blood and something Penta doesn't want to look at too closely.

 

They don't go far that day. Penta feels too weak to move even though something inside him is pulling at him, urging him to go further. He doesn't remember how long they have been in this forest. He asks Harrison but he doesn't seem to know either. He says it could hardly be two weeks but it sounds like he is making something up to comfort Penta. Who knows how long it has been. Penta almost suggest that they should turn around, try to find a way back home even though he knows well that that isn't possible anymore.

 

They start moving again. Their food and water supply has long run out and they live of plants and fruits and rain water that they collect in empty pots overnight. At some point, they have been walking for a long stretch now, maybe a whole day or maybe a week without stopping, Penta realizes that they forgot the tent and most of their supplies along the way. His mind is filled with a thick fog, the thrum ever present like a second heart beat. He sees Harrison leaning against a tree and it feels so distant even though he must be standing directly next to him. He fights against the feeling, tries to swim to the surface of his mind again.

 

He knows he shouldn't fight it, that he has to let himself drift, but there is fear pouring through him like cold water. He knows he is falling to the ground, fingers digging into the earth. He feels the air around him vibrate and he realizes too late that it's him who is doing it.

 

“Hey,” Harrison yells and comes closer.

 

The fog leaves Penta's head and suddenly everything is crystal clear, he perceives everything, every drop of water on every leave, every ant crawling through the moss, the intricate underground webs of the fungi, the water being pumped through the veins of the trees, the first pollen of the year floating through the air; everything. He feels he is humming with energy. With power.

 

Harrison tries to move closer but there is a thick branch crashing down between them and he backs away again. More branches rain from the sky, landing with loud thuds around them. The wind picks up. The water rises in little drops out of the moss, hovering in the air around Penta, the center of the storm.

 

Harrison is talking but Penta doesn't hear him through the thrum in his ears. He gets up again, feeling free and strong. There is a rushing through his body that he understands is power. A power stronger than he has ever felt. Like he could rip worlds apart. And it is only getting stronger, more and more energy flowing into him from his surroundings. He is bursting with it. The wind swirls around him, sparks of electricity dancing through the air.

 

Then his gaze falls through the veil of sparks and water around him and lands on Harrison. It's him now who is on his knees, head hanging low, arms shaking to hold him up. Penta feels his bracelet burn bright hot against his skin and he realizes that he is not only pulling energy from the nature around him, but that he is draining Harrison's life energy as well.

 

Before he can do anything about it, it feels like he is being thrown over an edge, and he gasps as he feels like he levitates into the air. His mind sets out and then there is only darkness. Nothing.

 

He hears Elder Wallace's voice drifts to him, feels his warm breath on his ear as he leans in to whisper something to him. There are flashes of memories, of kneeling, his bare skin against rough stone, water like salvation, the chatter of the courtyard, his mentor's hard grip on his shoulder, the winter sun.

 

Then he comes to again.

 

“Calm down,” Cisco says and pushes him back down on the bed.

 

“Where - - what - -” Penta's heart is still racing faster than he ever thought possible. His view zooms in and out of focus until it settles on Cisco's concerned face above him. Slowly the world stops spinning and he can orientate himself. He is lying in a bed, soft golden sunlight streaming into the room through the windows. He knows where he is; a safe house in their shared mind space. He remembers where he is supposed to be. “Shit, I have to get back,” He gasps. “I can't leave him alone out there. I-”

 

“Calm down,” Cisco repeats. “You fell out of time. You should take it slow. That's what the weird one said.”

 

Penta freezes. He checks, his mind reaching out to his timeline, to his world and it's true. It's unmoving, still, stuck at the point where Penta left it. “Damnit,” Penta says but settles back into the pillow. There's nothing to be done now. He looks at Cisco, hair still short and face dirty, siting at his bedside looking concerned. “You good?” He asks him.

 

“Yeah,” Cisco says. “Tess has an eye on me. We're holed up in a basement. I came as fast as I could.”

 

“You're cute,” Penta says.

 

“Shut up,” Cisco says. “Please tell me you're good. Honestly I have no fucking clue what is going on.”

 

“I'm alright,” Penta says. “I'm- We're on our way to the Clearing right now. And I must have overexerted myself and unconsciously – stopped time so I could regenerate.”

 

“Stopped time?” Cisco asks, eyes going wide.

 

“Don't get too excited,” Penta says and pats his arm. “It's not something that's advisable even if you ever learn how to do it. It – fucks with your timeline in a bad way. Usually our timelines run parallel to each other, we all start at the same point. But when we fall out of time it breaks our timeline off. The consequences in-universe are marginal but when I'll go back I have no idea where it will set back in in relation to the other timelines.”

 

“What does that mean?” Cisco asks.

 

“We won't be on the same time anymore,” Penta says. “It doesn't affect this place here, because it's under our control. So we can still meet. But interdimensional travel is another thing. If you'd make a portal and come over to me, I'll be much older. Or younger. Or not even there.”

 

“Good thing I can't make portals, anyway,” Cisco says. “Are you gonna get in trouble?”

 

“No,” Penta says and sighs. “Not when it happened unconsciously.” He can be lucky that his earth isn't big on the dimension hopping or he would be in a lot of trouble. But on the other hand, who knows what ripple effects this will have on the future. On him.

 

Cisco huffs out a breath and then grins, “Come on, man. Are you hungry?”

 

Penta realizes he is very hungry. He follows Cisco downstairs into the big kitchen. Weird Cisco, as Cisco likes to call him, is standing at the stove, preparing something that smells delicious.

 

“You're up,” He calls excitedly as he sees Penta, “Good to see you, Pen.”

 

Weird Cisco is kind of the patron host of this place, a refuge for when they are lost or need to rest. Penta helped him set it up, setting brick over brick until there was this beautiful, little house in the countryside. Outside there is a garden where Weird Cisco cultivates herbs and vegetables, a river running behind it. The landscape around it is as stunning as it is inaccessible, only a picture, the backdrop for many sunny hours every day. Cisco barely leaves this place anymore, abandoning his life to live in his head, or their heads or whatever, which is why the other Cisco calls him weird.

 

Penta goes over to him to give him a quick hug and catch a glimpse into the pot on the stove. He loves to come here, loves being surrounded by the nature and Cisco's calm presence. So of course his mind has escaped here when it had gotten too much. A soup is simmering in the pot, red and thick, probably tomato, and Weird Cisco laughs when he notices Penta's greedy gaze.

 

“Come, sit down,” He says and guides him to the table. He gets him a bowl full to the brim and steaming, places a container with cream cheese on the table and Penta puts a big spoon of it into the soup. Weird Cisco goes over to the window sill that is lined with pots of herbs and cuts a few leaves of basil that he scatters over Penta's bowl.

 

“Thank you,” Penta says before he starts eating. It's ridiculously good.

 

Cisco has sat down on another window sill that has been made into a bench next to a sleeping cat, rolled in on itself, and watches Penta eat with a smile. Penta casts glances his way while shoveling soup into his mouth. He looks even more out of place in this homey kitchen, all black gear, dirt under his nails, and spots on his shirt that look a bit too much like blood. Sometimes Penta just wants to pluck him out of his world and hide him somewhere where he will be safe and happy. But he knows that isn't possible, knows that Cisco probably wouldn't even want it. Has said so himself. He needs to fight this war, needs to make himself a home in the world where he belongs. But it gets harder every day to let him go, never knowing if he will come back again.

 

Penta is so lost in his thought that he doesn't notice Weird Cisco sitting down next to him and watching him.

 

“That must be a special person,” He says finally, and Penta startles, follows his finger that is pointing at the leather bracelet.

 

“It's nothing. It's a job,” Penta says and pulls his sleeve over the bracelet.

 

“If you're doing this for a job I'll have to start worrying about you,” Weird Cisco says.

 

Cisco pricks up at that, and stops petting the cat to come over to the table, too. “What is it?” He asks.

 

“It's a binding spell,” Penta admits, not able to lie to Cisco. “It's just to keep track of him.”

 

“A very powerful spell,” Weird Cisco adds and says to Cisco, “You want to know what that bracelet is made of? This is real blood and bones magic. If the person wearing the other bracelet gets lost it will pull you along.”

 

Cisco looks at Penta with a look he can't quite decipher. There is surprise but also disappointment. Penta looks away.

 

“You care that much?” Cisco asks.

 

“I promised his daughter to bring him back,” Penta says.

 

Before he leaves he stands with Cisco on the steps down into the garden. The sun is setting in this realm of theirs and Penta thinks about what will wait for him when he returns to the woods and Harrison.

 

“You better come back again,” Cisco says without looking at Penta. “If anything happens to you because of him I'm going to rip the multiverse apart until I find him and kill him.”

 

Penta takes his hand and squeezes it. “I'll be back,” He promises.

 

He wakes up slowly. He is lying down, soft moss between his fingers. The storm has calmed down and the power mostly left his body. He forces his eyes open. Harrison is sitting next to him, looking shaken but unharmed. When he notices that Penta is waking up he leans over him.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

Penta fumbles for the bracelet around his own wrist and rips it off. Harrison watches with furrowed brows as Penta summons a flame in his other hand and burns it. Then he stretches his hand out for Harrison's bracelet and does the same.

 

“God, that smells awful,” Harrison comments and backs away. “I thought those are for protection.”

 

“Yeah,” Penta says, and his throat is so dry it aches. “But it didn't protect you from me.”

 

Harrison sighs and rubs a hand over his face. Penta hears something he hasn't heard in a long time, in what feels like forever; the cry of a bird. He looks up and around and realizes that they are sitting at the edge of a clearing that is lined with tall birch trees. The normal sounds of the forest have returned. Penta sits up, he has been half leaning against one of the birch trees. The thrum is quiet.

 

“We're here.”

 

Harrison lowers his hand and looks at him. “What?”

 

“We're at our destination,” Penta says. “Now you have to go on on your own.”

 

Harrison looks at their surroundings, too, looking skeptical as if he doesn't believe Penta. “You're not coming?” He asks.

 

“I'm only the guide,” Penta says. “I shouldn't - - enter.”

 

There is fear again on Harrison's face – but also determination. “Where do I have to go?”

 

“You'll know,” Penta says and smiles. He is feeling so tired all of a sudden. “I'll be waiting for you.”

 

Harrison gets up and looks down on Penta, hesitating as if he wants to say or do something. But then he just nods and turns to walk into the clearing. There is a wasp flying by Penta, a low hum that catches his attention and for a second he looks away from Harrison. When he looks back Harrison is gone.

 

Penta feels his limbs grow heavier with sleep. He knows that Harrison might not come back at all. Anything could happen to him there. So as it was. So shall it be. Harrison might live through his personal hell, a waking nightmare. Or he'll find paradise, or anything in between. Penta's eyelids droop. He'll wait for Harrison. He'll w- -

 

A knock against the window of the car wakes him up. He sits upright, but still feels his cheek against the glass and his uncomfortable position in the ache between his shoulder blades. It takes him a moment to get his bearings. The door of the driver seat opens and Harrison gets in. The sun is going down over the tree tops and in the dwindling light Harrison's cheeks look hollow.

 

Penta tries to shake the sleep out of his head. He runs his hands over his head, over his face, looks at his hands and sees the dirt under his fingernails.

 

“How long did I sleep?” He asks. Asks that because he can't ask, how long were you gone? How did we get back here? What happened in there?

 

Harrison shrugs and then he smiles. “It's good to see you.”

 

Penta sighs and leans back into the seat.

 

Harrison starts the engine and cracks his window open. “Let's go home.”

 

As they make their way down into the city again night falls overhead. Penta falls asleep again, hypnotized by the passing street lights and an exhaustion that feels like he hasn't slept in weeks. Harrison shakes him softly when they arrive in front of his house. Penta, still drunk on sleep, follows him to the front door before his brain catches up. He stops on the porch and Harrison turns to him, confused when he realizes that Penta doesn't follow.

 

“Come on in,” He says. “You can stay the night and we'll get Jesse tomorrow.”

 

Penta sways on his feet and everything is pulling him towards the comfortable warmth of the house. But that moment he sees the future bright and clear. And he knows what the price is he is going to pay. And he knew that there would be a price but he didn't expect it to hurt so bad.

 

The next days Harrison will call him, voice livelier than Penta had ever heard it, and tell him that he got an exciting job offer in Midway City and that they will move there this month. Penta will congratulate him, and say that it is good that he is moving forward with his life. That he doesn't keep on living in the shell of a home that Tess left behind. And Harrison and Jesse will move away, and Penta won't see Jesse grow into the amazing woman she will surely become and Harrison will promise to visit, to keep in contact but he will close this chapter of his life and never look back, and the memory of Penta will collect dust next to the one of Tess on the shelves in the back of Harrison's mind.

 

Penta tries to say something, but there is a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes. He stares to the ground and hopes that Harrison doesn't notice it in the dark.

 

“Hey,” Harrison says gently, and then he hugs Penta. “Thank you for everything, Penta.”

 

Penta presses his face against Harrison's shoulder to suppress his sobs. “It's Cisco. My name. It's Cisco,” He croaks out.

 

“Cisco,” Harrison says, and understanding floods Penta like a sucker punch. He understands what they mean when they say that a name holds power.

 

“I better go home,” Penta says and lets go of Harrison reluctantly. He can't bear to hold on for much longer now that he knows that it's already over. A clean cut heals faster. A clean cut still hurts. “After this trip I'd rather sleep in my own bed than on your crappy couch.”

 

Harrison scoffs offended but takes a step back as well. “Alright then. Good night, I guess.” He watches Penta for a moment longer. “Good night, Cisco.”

 

 

 

 

“ _May those who find you find remorse,_

_A change of course,_

_A strange discord resolved.”_

Laura Marling - Soothing

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, i was riffing off a lot from the Tanis Podcast, so give it a listen if you liked this.  
> i don't know why i have to make everything so sad always, but the more i think about Penta's backstory the more fucked up it gets.


End file.
